


You're Glowing

by dontpanicprincess



Series: Nanobot Collection [2]
Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/M, Family Issues, Friendship, Nanobots, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-20 09:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15531339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontpanicprincess/pseuds/dontpanicprincess
Summary: This takes place approximately 2 years after my story Quantum Connections. In that story, Camille ended up infected with nanobots to cure her from a progressive wasting disease. Now, Camille ends up unexpectedly pregnant from a maybe-more-than-a-fling with Fisher. The inactive nanobots are suddenly activated by her pregnancy hormones and cause all sorts of problems. Since it was Kirsten's mother being terrible who led to the nanobot infection to begin with, Kirsten has to face her guilt from the previous incident.





	1. Camille

“Something’s different, Camille,” Linus’ eyes moved over my face. “I don’t know what it is, but you look amazing today. Almost glowing.”

I hadn’t meant to get pregnant, and there was no way he could know. I hadn’t told anyone yet. Certainly not Linus. Or Fisher for that matter. It had started off simply enough. I’d broken into his house again to beat away on his punching bag. I’d been feeling down about Amanda and I breaking up again. Fisher came home midway through my workout, and had joined me. Pretty soon we were sparring. And then we’d been wrestling. And then we’d been naked. All 8 of the pregnancy tests were definitely positive. The OB I’d seen yesterday had confirmed the heartbeat. I was going to have to talk to Fisher. Fuck.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t seeing Fisher. Since that night, us working out was becoming a Thing. I told him I was coming. He was home, so I didn’t break in. He joined me for the workouts. We’d spar until one of us pinned the other. And then… well. It was nice. But I’d gotten sloppy about my birth control while with Amanda. We both had had regular STD checks, and it wasn’t like I was going to get pregnant. I’d asked him after about the STD checks. He’d had one about 6 months before, but told me he hadn’t had any partners since. We both basically lived at the lab, so I believed him. It was one of the things that Amanda and I always fought about. Fisher understood. That was what he and his wife had fought about too. I was really going to have to talk to him. I really didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Camille,” Blondie’s voice cut across my brain, “did you hear me? Are you ok?” Kirsten looked at me. “You look distracted.”

“I’m fine, Blondie,” I dug up a snarky tone from somewhere. “Just busy plotting my next major online dating conquest.” Kirsten didn’t believe me, but she let the lame excuse slide. She knew I hated online dating. “What did you say again?” I asked.

“Maggie’s got some files for you, and wants you to run the briefing in 20 min.”

“On it,” I tried to escape Blondie’s gaze.

“I’m ditching Cameron after work tonight for a girl’s night,” she said. “We’re due some roomie time.”

“You and I haven’t been roomies for more than two years,” I whined.

“You’ll always be my roomie,” Kirsten smiled at me. “I’ll treat for dinner.”

I nodded, knowing I needed to talk to someone. Kirsten walked off, and happened to pass Cameron on her way to the break room. I could see his face fall slightly when she told him he was on his own after work. That man still adored her.

I grabbed my files and settled into my desk to organize my information when Fisher walked in, 10 min early. The office (and another raise) had been a gift from Maggie 6 months before, “Since you’re running most of the day to day operations of the lab, it’s only fair that you have a space to work in.” It was her old one. She’d moved her office to one of the reconfigured conference rooms, and it stayed locked except when she was in town.

“Hey, Tough Guy,” Fisher smiled at me, bringing me back to reality. “How’re you doing this morning?”

I pushed down all my instincts to smile back, “Hanging in, Fishy. Hanging in.” I had hidden my ginger ale in a reusable coffee mug, so he shouldn’t notice anything there. The saltines were hidden in the desk drawer.

“You up for a workout tonight?” Fisher asked me.

“I’m going to have to pass,” I replied, trying to keep my attention on the files. “Kirsten has declared a need for Girl Time and decided I’m indispensable.” I managed to get some humor into my tone, “If I’m very lucky, I may be regaled with tales of wedding plans or attacked by pictures of bridesmaids dresses.”

“I thought she and Cameron had decided on a low key wedding?”

“Have you met those two? Since when are either of them ever low key? Plus, Cameron’s mother has gotten Involved.”

“You know,” Fisher sounded hesitant, “if you wanted to, it might be nice for us to spend some time not trying to pummel each other.”

“What are you saying?” I sounded suspicious.

“I was just thinking that Sunday might be a really nice day to go see the new exhibit at the art museum, and it would be nice if you came with me,” I could feel the intensity of his eyes. He had really nice eyes. He continued, “And then maybe a meal afterwards?”

“Fisher, are you asking me on a date?” 

“Would you say yes if I was?” he came back immediately.

“Let’s start with a meal,” I hedged. “Tomorrow after work?”

“Done,” Fisher looked pleased.

“Now I really need to finish this briefing. Sorry, Fishy.”

“No problem,” he took a seat and pulled out his phone and waited to walk me to the conference room. He did that sometimes -- acted like I needed guarding as much as Blondie the Unfiltered and Captain Big Hair. I might not be as dangerous as Maggie, but I had a taser. Still, he was easy to be with. I didn’t protest.

This stitch was going to be complicated and ugly. The FBI had sent us this one -- and that was happening more often these days. Maggie had opened the secrecy just a crack, and Ivy was doing the hard work of educating and selecting samples from other govt agencies. This week she’d been in Washington. Linus missed her when she traveled, that sap, but they still seemed to be making each other happy. Clearly everyone was better at relationships than me. Well, not this guy. The sample was a white supremacist leader who had died in a shoot out when the FBI tried to arrest him. Both his wife and his mistress had left him. Hell, his mistress had turned him in. The FBI cared about him because there was speculation that he might have been planning some acts of domestic terrorism.

I didn’t envy Kirsten having to live with the memories from inside this man’s head. If she wanted to make me cringe by showing me bridesmaids dresses tonight, I would handle it, because laughing at me would give her some light after this darkness. Well, and I would tell her. Because she had no filter and would say all the things I was afraid to even think, and then … damn I wished I could drink.


	2. Kirsten

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN EVERYONE KNOWS ABOUT ME AND FISHER?” I tried not to laugh at Camille’s shock. They had thought there were being so discrete. And maybe they even were, but they worked with a bunch of nosey NSA agents. Us finding out shouldn’t have been that surprising.

“Sorry, Camille,” I smiled. “We were waiting for you or Quincy to say something.” Which was true.

“All right,” Camille sighed. “Tell me what gave me away.”

“When Amanda left you again, we were all worried,” this was true. Every time Amanda left, Camille sunk into a funk lasting weeks. Last time, it had been BAD. “Linus had shared out a calendar and was making us all sign up for slots to drag you out of the house or go hang out with you.” Camille looked embarrassed. She was always surprised at us being as devoted to her as she was to us. “Anyway,” I continued, “Quincy refused to sign up any slots. He said you would show up at his house when you were ready.”

“He wasn’t wrong,” Camille muttered.

“Well, it had been a little over a week, and you were a mess,” I left off the as expected. I was trying to learn how to be tactful. Cameron said I was making progress. “Quincy figured you needed to punch something, so he found some errands to run so you could get to his house before him and break in. He says that for you breaking in is the best part?” I couldn’t keep the question out of my voice. I didn’t understand that at all.

“He’s still not wrong,” Camille sighed. She stared at her hands. “He knows me really well.”

“So you worked out, and suddenly the next day, you were back to normal,” I continued. “The blackness was gone. The depression was gone. You were our snarky Camille again. So I asked Quincy what had happened, and he just replied ‘It was a really good workout’ and he looked pretty smug. And you were working out with him almost every night, and he was still looking smug, and then he started being more protective, and…” I trailed off. “We figured. It seemed to be making you both happy, so that was all that was important.” I looked at Camille, and shoved my tact out the window. “But the last few days, you don’t seem as happy. You seem worried. So I decided to push.”

Camille fidgeted. She wouldn’t make eye contact. But if she hadn’t wanted to tell me whatever it was, she would have found an excuse to be elsewhere. “The workouts with Fishy were really good,” she was mumbling again. And blushing? Camille was blushing? “But there’s a complication.”

“Spill,” I demanded, eyes flat. She needed another push.

“So, I wasn’t on birth control with Amanda, for obvious reasons,” Camille still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “And I’d just restarted the pill when Fisher and I had that first workout, and you know how it says to use back up for 2 weeks? Well, we didn’t…” she trailed off.

“CAMILLE!” I almost shouted, “Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?” 

“Probably,” she winced.

“How sure are you?” I asked.

“Eight pregnancy tests and hearing the heartbeat at an OB sure,” she finally looked at me. “Kirsten, what am I going to do?”

“Well, fuck,” I got up and paced. “Do you want a baby?” And then a dreadful certainty, “You haven’t told him yet, have you?”

“I don’t know, and no,” Camille squirmed.

“Ok,” I took a deep breath. “There are options. And not changing your name and moving to another country to avoid ever having to discuss this with Quincy.” 

“I have a really good fake passport,” Camille responded. “He’d never find me.” I was pretty sure she wasn’t kidding, so I ignored it. I’d make Linus find and confiscate the passport later.

“Let’s start with basics. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want it. You could get an abortion without ever telling Quincy,” I sat back down next to her. “If that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen.”

“What if maybe the idea of a baby is pretty amazing?” Camille looked at me. The fear in her eyes was definitely not a regular feature.

“Then the idea of a baby is pretty amazing,” I fell back on blunt. I was good at blunt. “You’re 28, which is not an unreasonable age to have a baby. You have a stable job. You would kill anyone who even thought about being mean to them. You have a lab of tame aunts and uncles. None of us know anything about babies, except maybe Maggie, who would also kill (literally) anyone who hurt them. The rest of us have the internet. All in all, you could be a kick-ass mom.”

“Blondie, I’m such a goddam cliche,” Camille groaned. “All I want to ask you is if you really meant all that?”

“Camille. I am terrible at lying. There is nothing on this earth you couldn’t do if you decided it was worth doing. If you want to be a mom, then that kid will be damn lucky to have you.” I was shocked when I saw Camille’s eyes fill with tears. Camille crying? And then I reminded myself -- pregnant Camille. Hormones.

“I think I want to keep it,” the voice was quiet and strange. Not the Camille I was used to.

“Then you’re having a baby,” I replied matter of factly. “But there is a catch.” 

Camille winced, “What?”

“You’re going to have to tell Quincy. You can’t have the baby and hide it from him.”

“We could hack into the NSA servers and get him transferred to Montana?” Camille sounded hopeful.

“No. We could not,” I held firm. “Quincy is a friend too, and if you’re having it, then it’s also partly his kid. You’re going to need to talk to him.”

“I agreed to have dinner tomorrow,” Camille pleaded. “That’s soon enough.”

“No,” I said again. “We’re going over there tonight before you can revisit your flee to another country plan. I can see it in your eyes.”

We waited in silence for the Lyft. Camille was pregnant. And with Quincy. That was … complicated from a feelings perspective. I could still hear the echo of today’s dead Nazi in my head railing because the baby wouldn’t have blond hair and blue eyes. I pushed that residual feeling all the way down, but I wasn’t sure what my own feelings were. A baby is exciting. And terrifying. And what if it messed up this brand new relationship between my best friend and Quincy? I loved Quincy too. He’d been like my brother ever since the disaster with my mom. I was too close and the feelings were too intense. I’d talk it through with Cameron later. Now, Camille needed me to be her best friend and drag her to this meeting and help her face whatever came next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels rough to me, but I'm not sure what it needs, so I'm going to publish it as is. I may edit it later.


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